A Semblance of Normalcy Would Be Nice
by ShaneRox56
Summary: KC Guthrie has a younger twin sister named Jordan who is joining Degrassi. What drama lies in store for the over-achieving, gay, opinionated girl who is thrust into a situation in which she has no control? First person OC, better than the summary, lol.
1. Chapter 1

ONE

**MANY DIFFERENT CHARACTERS** populated the halls of Degrassi Community School. A group of boys with guitars had congregated on the stairs, some jocks were tossing a football in the middle of the hall…some people were chilling by their lockers, finishing up homework. Laughter echoed across the linoleum through corridors clad with club posters, announcement bulletins, and grades posted in classroom windows.

I readjusted my sling-backpack, allowing my eyes to wander. KC chuckled next to me. "Why so serious?" he asked, making himself crack up.

"You're not funny."

My brother rested one of his big hands on my far shoulder and shook me playfully. "Relax, Jordan. What are you worried about?"

"I'm not worried about anything!" I shrugged out of his hold. "It's just a new school and my first day —why are you looking at me like that?!" I socked him and he winced, although his annoying smile returned as he cradled his arm. "Besides, don't go all older sibling on me…we are the same age."

"Fair enough."

The truth was that he was born two minutes before me, and while this fact was blatant on his face, I was grateful he didn't say anything. I am not usually this jittery, but in all honesty it really was only first-day nerves. Although it was a first-day for a lot of things, not only for attending that school.

"Hey KC," greeted some cute, curly-haired, bespectacled girl. Her eyes darted to me and she gave a sweet smile. "Hi, sorry…KC, who's this?"

"Jordan," he began, grabbing my shoulder again. "This is my girlfriend, Claire." I felt both of my eyebrows rise in unison. KC had a girlfriend? Since when? "Claire, this is my sister, Jordan."

"I didn't know you had a sister!" Claire turned to me and offered her hand. "Welcome to Degrassi!"

I shook her hand obligingly, flashing a smile. So KC didn't tell anyone about me. Well, I couldn't blame him. What could he say? Hey, everyone, remember how my parents are in jail and I stole a car and now live in a group home? Guess what. I have a twin who ran when the police tried to detain us and they finally caught her, so now she's going to move into my group home today!

Did any of these people even know our story? I guess I should have asked that question while we walked to school.

"Thanks," I told Claire, giving her hand back. "So, uh…how long have you and KC been together?"

She smiled and her eyes fell on him. "Not too long. But we've been friends for awhile." Her attention was back on me. "What's your locker number? I'm sure we could help you find it."

I opened my mouth to say something but was interrupted. "Hey Claire, KC." An Indian-looking girl appeared next to Claire. "Wait —who are you?"

"Alli," KC began, a wary tone in his voice. "This is Jordan. She's my sister, and she's joining Degrassi."

"Since when do you have a sister?"

"Pleasure to meet you," I cut in before my introduction could be protracted any longer.

Her eyes flicked to mine for the briefest of seconds, but then she looked away and flipped her hair. "Have you guys seen Johnny anywhere?"

"No, I haven't, sorry," said Claire.

This so-called Alli rolled her eyes and strutted off.

"That was Alli," repeated KC as we started walking again, Claire on his other side. "She's…." He didn't need to finish his sentence. I had already grasped that Alli and I would probably not be the best of friends.

We walked in silence for a few steps when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the locker with the numbers 243 on its placard. The three of us veered and KC's girlfriend helped me configure the lock.

"What's your first class?" she asked as I unloaded the brick-like textbooks the principal, whom I was told to call The Shep, had given me earlier that morning.

"She has Media Immersion with us," KC answered for me. I didn't know why he was hovering above me like he was. I told him that if he didn't want to associate with me he didn't have to. We had never been close ever since I had told him I was gay, and that was a couple years ago. Plus we hadn't talked in the six months I was homeless and he was here. But if he wanted to role-play like we were some white-picket fence family, I could care less. I wasn't here to infringe upon his life. I was here because the police said so.

"Claire-bear!"

I turned to investigate the source of the squeal and was confronted by a bubbly blonde hugging KC's girlfriend. Her face was plastered with summer-y makeup and that smile was…disconcertingly happy. I couldn't help myself. "You must be Little Miss Sunshine."

"Haha!" KC forced a laugh and surreptitiously hit me at the same time. "Jenna, meet Jordan. Jordan, Jenna."

"Hi!" This stranger was beaming at me and before I knew it I was being hugged. "Welcome to Degrassi!"

"Thank you." I patted her back so she would let go of me. The Little Miss Sunshine comment didn't seem to have fazed her. "So, uh…when does class start?"

As if they were listening and waiting for their cue, bells chimed throughout the school. The dull roar of teenagers stirred in acknowledgement and suddenly the hallway was a flurry of movement as people headed to their first period.

"Where's Alli?" asked Jenna as we were swept into the current of students

"She went looking for Johnny," Claire answered, a hint of disapproval in her voice. Why, I wondered. Was this Johnny a 'bad boy'? Did Claire realize the two juvenile delinquents she was in step with? My eyes focused on KC only because of my line of thought and I saw that he and Claire were holding hands. Warmness simmered in my chest. That was actually kinda cute. Heterosexual, but cute.

Congestion barred us from the Media Immersion room for a few moments as people coming in from the opposite direction were allotted in first. I spotted the three boys that were playing guitars on the stairs in the line to enter. The black, curly-haired one said farewell to the lanky blonde one and the other, who could have passed uncontested as the relative of KC's friend Alli. Those two guys entered the classroom, followed by the first drop-dead attractive girl I had seen thus far. Her skin was flawlessly tanned, her eyebrows manicured, her hair coifed, her legs showcased by a pair of fashionably-torn jeans. Behind her entered a threesome of ladies, and they were talking so loudly that I gathered their names within a matter of seconds: Manny, Emma, and Liberty. Only then were KC, Jenna, Claire, and I permitted to enter —made to wait because of our niner status, I suppose, although that label wasn't altogether true for me.

I was taking AP English and Composition, a class normally reserved for grade ten and eleven, as well as AP History (grade ten). Plus I was relatively sure the music class I was going to take counted as college credit. And I was in Algebra II and Biology, which could house any amalgamation of grade levels.

KC and his friends took their seats as I approached the teacher, a pink slip of paper in my hand that The Shep told me to show all my instructors. I was just playing by the rules today —it had been awhile since I had been enrolled in a public school.

"Hello there," the middle-aged, friendly guy greeted, taking the proffered sheet. He scanned it over quickly, smiling at me again when he was finished. "Welcome to Degrassi, Miss Guthrie. I assume you're related to Mr. Guthrie over there." The teacher nodded his head in KC's general direction. "I'm Mr. Simpson, by the way. Some of the students call me Snake. You can take a computer anywhere you like."

What was with the faculty having nicknames? "Oh, okay." I smiled before spinning on my heel and surveying the classroom. It was divided into four rows that held five computers each. The first row was filled with the threesome I had seen earlier plus two male students; the second row was occupied by Claire, KC, Jenna, Alli, and Alli's older, male doppelganger (I was proud for being as observant as to deduce their kinship previous to that moment) in that order; in the fourth row sat three admittedly scary-looking thugs, so that left the third row.

I took the only vacant seat in the third row, which was in the dead center. My backpack slid off my shoulder and to the ground as I powered up my computer. To my right sat an obvious couple: both were chunky, red-headed, and plagued by severe facial acne. To my left was a guy dressed in rather formal attire for attending a public school, wearing a collared shirt, tie, and sweater. Beyond him was his sister (I was now feeling more confident in my observation skills for the day), who was very pretty with her crystalline bluish-gray eyes that reminded me of my own.

"Everyone, quiet down," Mr. Simpson said, turning on a TV that was propped into the corner of the classroom via remote.

I guess this school had its TV station that iterated the daily announcements. At the last school I attended, I had been one of the anchors, getting in front of a camera everyday and loving it. I sort of missed Oakdale sometimes…I mean, all of my friends were probably still there…I could hardly remember what having friends felt—

"Don't tell me you find this pathetic attempt at a news broadcast intellectually stimulating," murmured the boy with caterpillar-eyebrows to my left. He was smirking at me, leaning into my personal bubble. The smell of undeniable male wafted into my nostrils, making me gag. I tried to will him away with my eyes, but he was not to be deterred, so I poked him in the chest to actually move him. "Ouch," he said, grinning as he rubbed the area I jabbed him in. "No need to get physical."

Eww! Oh my god, eww. That's so fricken revolting. His charming façade was entirely ineffective on me, but apparently he couldn't see the disgust that must have been my face. "Thanks, but no thanks," was all I said as I turned by attention back to the television show.

"The lady makes a hasty decision," he continued. I could feel that his gaze was still on me. Who would call me a lady? My entire ambiance is androgynous, with short, choppy hair and guy-ish apparel. The boy seemed to have mind-reading powers. "Maybe 'lady' isn't the most appropriate interchangeable noun, hmm? But who says that tomboys aren't sexy?"

Eww. He said 'sexy'. Shivers raced up my back, making me gag. "Okay, Gent, hear me out: I'm gay. I do not find you attractive in any sense of the word. You need to stop it because you are freaking the crap out of me." I made eye contact to make my point, being matched by his astonished eyes.

"You are?"

Was he blind? I gestured at my outfit and even pointed out the sweatband on my right wrist, which bore a rainbow triangle with Love is Love written across the sides and two female symbols entwined, two male symbols entwined, and the heterosexual equivalent on each corner. The accessory seemed to confound him more…his expression showcased only bewilderment.

"But you're beautiful!" I scoffed at this comment as Mr. Simpson turned the TV off. "I mean it, you're indisputably beautiful!"

"How shallow can you be?!" I demanded. "Looks have nothing to do with sexual orientation!"

My arguing opponent realized that he had the undivided attention of his cohorts so he fell quiet, but being the object of our classmate's stares did not dissuade me. I opened my mouth to continue blaring at this boy, but I saw KC's pleading look and my activist's passion dimmed enough so that I could take my seat again. At some point within the verbal exchange I must have stood up.

"Declan, Jordan…can we get to class now please?"

I flicked my hand in Mr. Simpson's direction to signal him to continue, double-clicking the Internet and logging onto Degrassi's website, seeing as that was what every nearby monitor was displaying. Declan, or so Mr. Simpson named him, was smart to not press me any farther. I wouldn't want any decapitations on my first day.

Another bell chimed and all at once people were packing up and leaving. Mr. Simpson's class had been about how company's utilized pop-ups for advertising purposes, and the next day we were destined to discuss the different types of pop-pops.

I logged off of all of my computer's processes, as instructed. I spun in the rotating chair and stooped to get my things only to discover an expanse of linoleum where my backpack was supposed to be.

"Looking for this?" Declan rose the sling of my backpack so that it dangled in my face. I snatched it away from him, now freshly irked. "Hey, no need to get feisty," he continued, following me as I joined the line to get out. KC and company had already been freed. I was torn as to whether or not I was hoping he was waiting for me and was planning on walking me to my next class. A heavy hand fell onto my shoulder.

"Can you do me a favor?" I asked, spinning around and getting in his face. "Can you just _not_ touch me? You're creepy enough without being all touchy-feely."

He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Duly noted —I'll keep my hands to myself." I sighed in exasperation, satisfied, and began to march into the hallway. Just when I thought he'd decided to leave me be, I heard that forced, velvety voice again. "Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so…"

"Aggressive? Invasive?"

He smiled a genuine smile that I actually liked, putting his hands in his khaki pants. "I was going to say forward," he said, leaning against the wall of lockers as we reached mine. He watched me shamelessly as I managed to unlock my lock on my third try.

"Don't you have a locker of your own to scurry off to?"

Declan flashed me his teeth, but this was one of his fake-charm smirks as he tapped the metal door he had been leaning on. "Right here. We're neighbors."

I fished out my English tome. "Joy to the world."

"Ah," he said, opening his own locker as I closed mine. "AP English and Composition with Ms. Kwan." Another cheesy smile. "Me too."

Alright. What did this Declan guy want? At first he was just flirting with the new kid… okay, fine, acceptable. Then the new kid told him off for being so damn persistent, including outing herself, which wasn't exactly planned but would've happened eventually (for the life of me I do not understand why people stay in the closet —it's majorly claustrophobic in there). Then he insinuated that all gay people are ugly, or at least lesbians. And then the new kid blew up at him. So now he's pretty much stalking said new kid. Why?

"May I walk you to class?"

Oh my. Today was the wrong day. Normally I would shrug this guy off or maybe even make friends with him, but too much was riding on today! I was supposed to make nice with my brother, seeing as we were going to be living together again. I had to assimilate myself into a new school —not an easy task on the best of days. And afterwards, I would have to assimilate myself into a group home and get reacquainted with domestic life. And if I didn't? I get to spend the next year and a half in juvy. Wrong day, Declan.

But I didn't use the words that were waiting so eagerly on the tip of my tongue. Instead, wordlessly, I opened my locker for the second time, grabbed a not-so-inconspicuous sticker and slapped it on my door.

Declan took a moment to read it. It was a bumper sticker I had received from one of my friends in Oakdale's LGBT group, which seemed like forever and a half ago. "We're here, we're queer," I read aloud, tapping the phrase affectionately. "I'm gay."

His previously inscrutable expression morphed into one of his authentic smiles as he chuckled lightly. "I know. I get it, Jordan. This isn't me courting you. This is me trying to make friends."

I felt my eyebrows rise. Oh. Now I felt kinda bad. "Well you must not do the latter too often for it to be as similar to the former as it is." My reply in it of itself was a test to see how compatible Declan and I were as friends.

He smiled. "Touché." Declan took my book of out my hands and shut his locker with his foot. "May I walk you to class?" he asked, tarrying for my answer. The five-minute bell rang.

"Fine, fine. Lead the way, Gent."

Declan smiled again, and I was happy because it seemed that he had abandoned his endearing-smile-in-a-can routine.

We traversed the bustling hallways, and I was unceremoniously shoved and elbowed and stepped on more than twice. Declan, on the other hand, stood tall and walked effortlessly. It occurred to me a guy that practiced with the idiosyncrasies of social interaction must be fairly high on the ladder of Degrassi hierarchy. And here I was, trailing behind him, nothing but a faceless niner.

This was not working for me. Hopefully after my life had achieved some sort of semblance of normalcy I could break out of my shell and show this school who I really was. That is, when I'm not so uptight and antsy.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello everyone! It occured to me that I neglected to say that this fanfiction is an OU (or AU): it is not fashioned after a particular season and will probably include all the major Degrassi characters from all the seasons. Alright, that's it! Thank you to all that subscribe and comment!_

TWO

**I DIDN'T UNDERSTAND **why Ms. Kwan was made me wait at the head of the classroom so that she could introduce me to everyone. While Degrassi was a fairly large school, from what Declan said, new kids were kind of a big deal. Then again, he and his sister Fiona had diplomats as parents and had lived exciting lives in numerous countries before their most recent stop —Canada. I was just the twin (fraternal twin, which is much less exciting than an identical twin) of KC Guthrie, some niner that got occasional playing time on the basketball team.

I sighed as students filtered into AP English and Composition. Of those assembled, I recognized Declan, Fiona…and that was it. But even as I thought this, a girl wearing a white wife-beater, jeans, and a baseball cap off to the side approached me. A smile spread across my features —she was cute.

She returned my smile. "Hi, sorry…umm, this is kinda stupid, but I saw that thing you put up on your locker…." She stopped herself, shaking her head clear and chuckling a little. "Sorry, I…" She stopped again and thrust her hand out. "I'm Alex."

Aww! She was adorable! This Alex person was dressed all bad-ass, but she was so…endearing. And pretty too. And gay, I guessed, from her introduction. "Hey Alex," I replied, shaking her hand. "I'm Jordan."

"Jordan," she repeated, now seeming remarkably more at ease as she slipped her hands into her pockets. "Do you know where I, uh…could get one of those 'We're Here, We're Queer' things?"

I shrugged, leaning against the front wall and propping the sole of my foot up. "At my old school's GSA?" I shrugged. "Sorry. But if I see any floating around, I'll let you know."

"Alright," she said. "Thanks." With one last smile, she spun on her heel and marched towards her seat where a…pink, frilly blonde with bug-sunglasses was waiting for her? I blinked. What?

Huh. I guess this proves that you really cannot judge a book by its cover.

I guess by then some of my nerves had calmed, because I assumed some of my usual characteristics that had been dormant that morning. For example, my eyes shamelessly surfed over the heads of the congregated teenagers, searching for anyone else attractive. There was Fiona, but my gaydar was beeping back negative, and if Declan and I were supposedly friends now, she was off-limits anyway. I continued to search, attempting to be surreptitious only because I caught the stare of two strangers consecutively. There was an openly gay guy sitting on the opposite side of Alex's plastic friend, chatting with her, Alex, some guy with short, curly brown hair, and…hmm. On the other side of this brown-haired kid was an orange-haired girl. Her features were soft, and her smile was small, albeit genuine. The gay guy said something funny and she laughed…a pleasant sound. She was worth watching out for, I guess.

The second bell sounded. "Alright, everyone, quiet down. We have a new student —grade nine, in fact— that is joining our class. Everyone, please help me welcome Jordan Guthrie." I rolled my eyes. What were they supposed to do, clap? Declan was looking at me, smiling smugly at the events that had unfolded. He thought this was funny. "Jordan, why don't you tell us a little about yourself?"

Was any of this necessary? "Hey…everyone," I began, straightening up. "I'm going to be in your English class so…righteousness." I could hear Declan chuckle, which was half the point of my added word, so I smiled. Just as Ms. Kwan looked to continue talking (probably probing me for information), I added, "By the way, I'm gay, so if any of you guys think you're hot-crap, cool it, and girls…well if you're interested, call me."

"Thank you, Jordan." Ms. Kwan appeared irritated but I had squeezed a few giggles out of my audience, so it was whatever. "You can take a seat next to Craig —the one behind Marco. Boys, raise your hands please."

The gay guy raised his hand, as did his brown-haired, curly-haired counterpart. By Ms. Kwan's description I figured out which was which. I maneuvered in between the rows, passing in between Alex and Barbie among others, and sat in the designated seat.

Marco —the gay guy— immediately turned around to talk to me. "Do you realize you just outted yourself to the entire class?" he asked, his eyes alarmed as if it were a real possibility that I didn't realize the words that had come out of my mouth.

I smiled and laughed a little. "Yeah, I do. Why waste the trouble telling each individual?"

Marco's eyebrows rose. "Well kudos to you, sister. I wish I was that brave."

I shrugged. "It wasn't bravery, it was practicality. Are you saying you're not out?"

"No I am." He plucked at the scarf around his neck as if that solidified his statement. "It's just that for a _niner_ to _out_ themselves as they are introduced to a _new class_ is…."

"Brave," finished the guy next to me. "I'm Craig," he said, offering his hand.

"Jordan," I replied, shaking it.

"Welcome to Degrassi."

"Thanks." There was no questioning how welcoming this school was, I'll tell you that.

AP English and Composition commenced. I retrieved a brand-new, untarnished spiral from my knapsack-thing and set it on my desk. Blank, lined paper has to be the most marvelous thing in the world. Almost with regret, I put my pen to the paper and began to copy the bullets of the PowerPoint Ms. Kwan had put up.

A few minutes later, Marco turned around again and muttered, "From Alex," and tossed a square piece of paper onto my notes.

From Alex? A smile overtook my mouth as I slowly unfolded the missive, still maintaining eye contact with the teacher as she continued her lecture. Before revealing its contents I glanced at Craig, but he was busy…. "Are those song lyrics?"

Craig met my eyes for only a second before beginning to fervently scribble once more. "Yeah. Once inspiration strikes, you gotta just jot it down, you know?" He finished whatever line he was composing and gave me his attention. "I'm kinda like a singer-songwriter —playing the guitar is like, my thing."

"Oh sweet. Me too." He wore an expression that was either doubtful or surprised. "I play guitar too, and write songs, and _try_ to sing."

I slunk into my seat and opened the note, yet I didn't get a chance to read any of it before Marco had turned around. "You play guitar?" He paused, but not long enough for me to get an answer out. "Lead or rhythm?" Another pause, still not long— "Because if you play rhythm, my friends have a band called Stüdz, and they need a rhythm guitar."

My brow furrowed. "Then they must be pretty desperate."

Marco grinned at my joke. "Seriously, they ARE desperate. Peter tried to bribe me to do it, but I play bass, and they had some niner for awhile, but he had no talent. If you're half-way decent, they'd be ECSTATIC to have you."

Being in a band? Wait, no, scratch that. Being INVITED to join a band by some guy that sits in front of my in English on my first day? What was in the Degrassi water fountains? "What about Craig over here?" I gestured at him, though his head was down and his hand was a blur of activity.

"He and Peter had, uh…" He searched for the word.

"Creative differences," finished Craig, not looking up from his work.

Marco fell quiet, leaning in, awaiting my answer. Just as I was about to give a noncommittal reply, another note plopped on top of my spiral. This one was not folded and clearly read, _Read the first note!_ I chuckled. "Hold that thought," I told Marco, turning my concentration to the unfurled message from Alex.

_What if I'm interested?_

I looked up and sought Alex's eyes, finding them. They weren't anxious or anything, but… somehow expectant. I smirked at her and readied my pen.

_Then prove it._

It occurred to me as the bell made itself known and people began to file out that the orange-haired girl, the one sitting on the other side of Craig, hadn't said anything after I sat down. Not to me, but I mean not to anyone. Marco, Alex, Alex's Barbie friend, and Craig had whispered things to each other, cracking jokes and discussing gossip or whatever (after the whole band discussion I thwarted and the note thing, I was actually paying mind to Ms. Kwan). She wasn't laughing with them anymore. As I stepped into the hallway I remembered that Craig had been absorbed with his song and he was the main one she was speaking with, but still. I don't know. It bothered me a little.

"Hello again," Declan said, falling in step with me as we ventured back towards our lockers. "I couldn't help but notice you fraternizing with a certain Alex Nunez."

I shrugged. "So what if I was? Don't tell me you have 'dibs' or whatever the players are calling it nowadays."

"Oh no," he assured me as we reached our location. "She's all yours."

As I exchanged my English textbook for my Introduction to Musical Theory pamphlet (don't look at me, I didn't name it), I noticed Declan surveying the halls. "Looking for someone, Gent?" I asked him, locking my lock.

"I asked Fiona to stop by my locker —I want you two to meet." Why? I didn't get a chance to vocalize my query, because right then she glided towards us with those bluish-gray irises.

"I assume you're Jordan?" she asked, openly sizing me up with those piercing eyes.

"I assume you're the Empress of the World?" Her regal attitude was what made me think of this title, and it was my lack of a cerebral censor and any sense of social tack that allowed the comment to be aloud. "It's Fiona, right?"

My second question was quick after the first, so she only faltered slightly. "Yes." She smiled a smile that in all truth, I wasn't expecting. It was not the tight, bland curling of the lips one might think, but was warm, honest.

Unfortunately a small awkward silence ensued. Silence doesn't bother me, but most people can't stand it. What else was there to say? All of us were no more than acquaintances —knowing not much else except first names. Although, right then I took another gander at the both of them…were they fraternal twins as well?

"If you'll excuse us, Jordan, I need to speak with Fiona about something." I shrugged, gathering my things and heading off. "Jordan?" I turned back around at Declan. He was grinning. "The music room would be that way." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder.

"Thanks Gent," I said, shoving him playfully as I crossed him again. "Adios, Empress." Even as I entered the throng of loud and obnoxious teenagers, I barely grasped the next few lines of the siblings' conversation.

"Why does she call you Gent?"

"I don't know, but I kind of like it."

"But why am I the Empress of the World?"

"I guess she just enjoys giving people nicknames."

I won't bore anyone with a narration of my first day of Music Theory, because I assure that it was just as monotonous as one would imagine. I wasn't even permitted to touch any pieces of the instrument collection that inhabited the rear of the room! Mr. Regaldo gave me this huge sermon about how I needed to be responsible and bring my instrument every day. I am not entirely sure whether or not he was notified of me being a new student, seeing as he just waved me off when I tried to show him my pink paper.

Craig happened to be in my class, though, which I guess wasn't too shocking. Before I was 'so impudent as to lay hands on a mentor's tools' (Mr. Regaldo's words, not mine), the teacher was going off about how everyone needed to be able to read both treble and bass cleft and Craig and I had some time to chat. He was a pretty chill guy —very into his music. I'm not sure if he knows there are such things outside of the musical realm, but who cares? He was easy to talk to and that's the kind of companion you want on a first day. Plus he introduced me to Sav and Danny, the two guys I had seen with the lanky blonde kid (who I now presumed was Peter) that morning. They were fairly cool as well —friendly— and fueled by overt enthusiasm about getting me to join Studs or whatever.

What I found amusing about the whole situation is that they were getting themselves all worked up over a single comment I made about playing the guitar. The truth was that I was self-taught almost entirely. KC and I had taken lessons at the rec center by our old house for all of two weeks. He dropped it afterwards, complaining about sore fingertips. Pussy. I, however, looked up tabs online and achieved a pretty well-rounded understanding of my abilities. The thing was, while I could read tab and knew a plethora of chords (it just so happened that I did prefer rhythm, not lead), I couldn't read music at all, treble or bass.

It goes without saying that I was determined to keep this fact hidden from Regaldo for the duration.

Class was over, and much to my surprise, Declan was waiting for me just outside the door. When he said he was trying to make friends I didn't know I was inheriting a lapdog. "Hey," I greeted, folding the brochure-thing and sticking it into my back pocket.

"How was Music Theory?" he asked.

I couldn't tell if he actually gave a crap or was just making conversation, but I indulged him either way. "Boring. The instructor —Regaldo— has already decided he doesn't like me. Plus I guess I'm supposed to bring my own guitar and know how to read notes."

He snickered. "You're taking AP Music Theory and you can't read music?"

I punched him in the arm. "I can learn! The thing is, I haven't touched a guitar in six months, let alone own one."

Declan made a clicking sound with his tongue. "Tough break, kid."

Kid? Really? Ugh, whatever. Declan could go screw himself. I stayed in step with him, though, because he knew his way to the Caf and I didn't.

Against what one might suspect, the layout of the place was clever, so it didn't really seem crowded at all. Vending machines lined one wall, and there was a buffet line on the adjacent side. Teenagers populated the numerous tables, yet most were not so encumbered as to explode. And the place didn't even smell like whatever they were serving today.

"If you have nowhere else to sit, Fiona and I eat lunch over there." He indicated an island by the windows. "Although it seems like your brother wants you."

I followed his gaze and found KC, Alli, Jenna, Claire, and two other boys I didn't know. They were all staring at me. "Are you sure that look is a 'come here' look? It resembles a 'stay away or else' more closely to me."

He smiled. "Well if you desire different company, you know where to find me."

He began to walk away, but I grabbed his arm. "Just a second," I said, half-stalling, half-curious. "What was it that you needed to talk to Fiona about?"

"Oh, that. Our parents are throwing a little rendezvous tonight, and if you have nothing /better to do, I thought I'd invite you." He must have read my glare. "As friends, Jordan —I understand that we don't bat for the same team. Fiona and I have already invited Peter and Mia, so why not? You can bring your brother if you'd like."

Same Peter as the Stüdz's Peter? Hmm. "I'll think about it."

Declan inclined his head. "That's all I ask."

As he joined his sister at their lone table, I got into the buffet line. Today's delicacy? Worm-like noodles with melted bricks on top. Lovely. I took my tray and found KC's table again. It would seem that they hadn't taken their eyes off of me since I entered the Caf.

"Hello everyone," I said a bit awkwardly, sliding into the end seat of the far bench. KC was opposite me, and the guy on my right was someone I had yet to be introduced to.

"Hi Jordan," Claire said sweetly, positioned next to my twin. "How are your classes going?"

"They're going fine. Just, you know…sitting there…taking notes…listening to teacher's drone on and on…" My voice trailed off. Each one of them was still looking at me. I struck my food with my spork and began to twirl. "So, uh, how was your guys' day so far?"

"Good."

"Fine."

"Alright."

"Pretty good."

"Okay-ish."

I looked to KC, but he was just messing around with his spaghetti. Just as I was about to ask him the question directly, the kid to my right started talking. "The name's Dave," he told me, holding his hand out not for a shake, but for that slap-and-punch thing people do. I indulged him. "I'm on the basketball team too."

"Sweet." I flashed him a smile and opened my mouth to ask KC—

"I'm Connor," said a big kid with glasses on Claire's other side. "I keep track of all the stats and I'm the water boy and I'm the equipment manager."

I nodded at him. "Awesome," was all I said. For a time lunch was uneventful and suckish. KC's friends loosened up eventually, and the conversation flowed or whatever, but he stayed sort of quiet. At first I couldn't figure out why, but as my eyes wandered around the Caf they found Alex's, and that got me thinking. Did he notice my locker? What if he caught wind of my little speech in Ms. Kwan's class?

Oh boy. Well, at least he wasn't acting like it was a big deal in front of his (our?) friends. But if that was why he was grumpy, I was going to get to look forward to an earful on our walk to the group home, and if not then, later that night.

Little Miss Sunshine pushed her tray away, drawing back my attention. "Claire-bear and I are going to the library to finish our project," she announced, taking Claire's arm and standing.

"Oh, okay," Dave said, half-standing up himself. "I'll catch you later then, Jenna?"

The blonde gave a vague yet somehow still sickly sweet smile as she flurried her fingers at him and the girls left. Out of my peripheral vision I could see Dave witnessing their departure. So Dave liked Jenna? Good to know, I guess.

"God she drives me insane," Alli said as soon as she felt the two were out of hearing.

"Be nice," KC mumbled as he pushed his tray away as well. It didn't seem like he had eaten any school-distributed pasta…just played around with it.

"What's wrong with Jenna?" Connor asked. He eased his glasses up the bridge of his nose and a bell signaled lunch's end.

"She just BUGS me!" Alli continued, throwing away the remainder of her meal. "Claire and I were just fine by ourselves and then she comes along and suddenly they're BFFs." She made a disgusted noise. "So frustrating."

KC didn't say anything as he tossed his food and didn't even look at me as he started to exit. I stuck my tongue in my cheek and threw away my trash, leaving myself. He wanted to give me the cold shoulder, fine. I am gay. He got to pretend all morning that it was 'just a phase' or 'something we just weren't going to talk about.' Now he needed to come back to reality. This was me.

History was history. The instructor, Mr. Perino, made a point to let me know that getting into AP US History was nothing to be egotistical about. He sat me next to Danny, that one guy from Stüdz, and near a guy named Derek.

They talked incessantly the entire time until I was ready to rip my hair out.

Algebra II was taught by Coach Armstrong, so it involved a lot of in-your-face 'encouragement.' I can honestly say I wasn't paying too much attention. There was a very, very beautiful girl that sat on the other end of the classroom. So straight though… so devastatingly straight. But the good thing about that was this: I am not attracted to unavailable people. No joke. I'm very good about ignoring my straight crushes until they fade away and very good at focusing my energy on more promising prospects. So while this tan-skinned model with luscious chocolate curls and big, brown eyes was very fun to look at, I fought down the dancing balls of yellow fluff that wanted to parade around in my chest.

Biology was next. I accidently bumped into someone named Johnny DiMarco, who I was %95 sure was Alli's Johnny by his testosterone-y reaction; finally met Peter, who attempting to interrogate me about my guitar skills and the probability of me joining his band, but I didn't give him much to work with; was introduced to Peter's ultra-masculine jock friend Riley, who said he was dating Fiona…I don't know, my gaydar was telling me contrary things; and sat next to Alex and her friend Jay, but employed minimal small-talk because of the way her friend was standing over her possessively.

School was over. The class was in the process of vacating the room. I made to fly as well, but the way Alex was looking at me told me to stay, so I stalled. She and Jay were having some sort of silent conversation. She shoved Jay and he didn't not look happy, but reluctantly let us be. The teacher had gone maybe five minute previous to go make copies, so we truly were by ourselves.

She laughed, maybe a little nervous. "You are a very hard person to get alone," she said, fixing the angle of her baseball cap.

I leaned against my desk, smiling at the ground a little. "I am?"

"Yeah, and it's your first day."

I laughed gently, flicking my hair out of my eyes. "I'm sure it wasn't THAT difficult."

She mimicked me, hopping atop her desk. "Well I didn't get a chance to flirt with you during English —Marco was all over you. I wanted to wait for you after class, but Declan was already there and Paige was being impatient. At lunch I successfully caught your eye…" She paused and my ears grew hot, but I hoped my hair was long enough to cover at least the tips. "…but it seemed like there was some tension with your brother and you stormed off."

I shrugged. "Sibling shit," was all I said, looking at her again. "I have to admit, I am curious how you intend to prove your interest."

She smiled to herself. "My trying to get you alone all day wasn't enough?"

I wanted to kiss her. In fact, that was all I was thinking about the entire period and up until that moment. She was very pretty and gay and with all these new variables in my life…it would be great to have a constant. But in the back of my head I knew my mind was going a million miles a minute and I was only feeling vulnerable because of my… recent misfortune. Yet I was also a horny teenager who…had a twin waiting for her somewhere. Goddamn it.

"Turns out it was," I said, making up my mind. "Unfortunately I have to get going, though. I haven't seen…our new house yet, so it's not like I can meet up with him later."

"Oh, I get it," she replied, getting off her perch.

"But," I touched her hand, halting her progress. "Do you think that maybe I could have your number?"

She smiled and I think blushed, but her skin was dark enough to where I couldn't be sure. "Yeah, you can." She took my hand and took a Sharpie, writing down the numbers. "Call or text —whatever."

"I'll be calling," I told her, taking back my hand and staring at the numerals. "I don't have a cell phone as of yet." My hand returned to my side and I smiled at her. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I left the classroom and started down the halls, which were a lot emptier than I had yet to see. I thought about Alex, about how I knew nothing about her, and knew nothing about anyone I had met that day. I thought about Declan, and what utilitarian motives he must possess, and the invite to his parent's party that night. I thought about Marco and Stüdz and what accepting or declining THEIR invite would affect my future. I thought about the stranger that was my brother, and how I had no choice about my place of residence or where I was getting an education. I thought about how one misstep could land me in juvenile hall.

So I slowed my pace, took a deep breath, and prepared to take the dive.


	3. Chapter 3

THREE

**HE WAS WAITING **for me across the street. I tried calm down as I jaywalked over there, fiddling around with my knapsack. I wanted things to stay civil as possible in the following conversation, but knowing the two participants, that probably wasn't going to happen.

"I saw that outrageous sticker you put on your locker," KC growled as soon as I joined him, spinning around and beginning in the same direction we had walked to Degrassi from.

Well, at least social niceties had been abandoned at the beginning and there was not going to be any beating around the bush. "Yeah? And?"

"Why do you want the whole fricken school to know you think you're a lesbian?" he demanded, glaring at me out of the corner of his eyes. "I thought that you'd have given up this whole homosexual thing by now."

"You thought that being homeless would cure my gayness?" I rolled my eyes, anger beginning to boil my blood. "You are so fricken closed-minded, KC. Do you have any idea how many gay people go to Degrassi? We make up, like, 10% of the population!"

"Stop talking like you're one of them," he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets.

I stopped in my tracks. "I am one of them!" I yelled, running to make up the ground I had lost. "Why is that so hard for you to accept? This isn't some phase, KC —this is who I am!"

It was his turn to roll his eyes. "It's a choice, Jordan. And I don't know why you'd choose eternal damnation and hellfire."

Are you kidding me? I hated that I was the one losing my temper, but I couldn't help it. "Since when are you religious!? I know we used to pray together when—"

"And that's another thing." He whirled around to face me. "When Dad gets out of jail, don't you think he'll come looking for us? And how do you think he's gonna feel about you wanting to be a lesbian?"

My insides went frosty and suddenly I was catapulted in time. I was so young. Dad was yelling, Mom was unconscious on the couch, and KC was crying. I pressed my hands to my ears, wanting to be somewhere —anywhere— than here….

I blinked. "I don't give a shit about him or what he thinks," I hissed, shoving past my brother. "Is that how you're gonna live your life, KC? Making your decisions on the chance of Dad maybe finding you someday? You've always been a coward."

He didn't say anything and wouldn't look at me.

I stared at my feet as we walked, my nails digging into my hands, every muscle in my body tensed. We had to get along, that's what my officer said. And I didn't want to be angry with him. He was the only family I had. I didn't want him to hate me…. "It isn't a choice," I said once we were stopped at a light. He didn't saying anything, just pressed the crosswalk button. "Why in the world would I choose to be discriminated against? You know how much shit I got at Oakdale —who's to say Degrassi won't be any different? I put that sticker on my locker because it is part of _who I am_. I can't change, KC, and even if I could I don't think I would. Yeah, it's a harder life, but…I'm okay with it. And I'm not going to hide to spare anyone's discomfort. Besides, what does my liking girls have anything to do with you —with anyone!?"

He wasn't going to talk. This infuriated me. I think I would've been happier if he was yelling. Was he not going to even acknowledge my efforts? I was trying to explain myself —I wanted him to understand. Couldn't he see that? "Well this is who I am, KC, and like it or not I can't change. I'm still your sister, I'm still going to be going to your school, and I'm still going to be living with you. If you don't want to associate, fine, that's your choice. I never meant to force myself upon you. I was perfectly content by myself."

That wasn't true. Those six months…I was not okay. And I had never needed anyone more in my life than KC. But I wasn't about to say anything that even hinted at that. If there was one thing I learned my half-year on the streets was that I could be a lone wolf if I wanted to. I did not need other people. I had survived by myself.

We reached the street —Spartan Avenue— where the cruiser had dropped me off when my officer spotted KC on his way to school. He, the cop, had been kind enough to let me go and take my crap to the group home for me. I mean, all and all the police were trying to be accommodating. They were placing me in a group home with my brother, not into some random orphanage in Quebec (which was where I wandered to over the span). They even furnished me with a wardrobe of brand-new clothes, seeing as the few outfits that had been in my possession were falling-apart and stained.

KC turned sharply to the right. I looked up at saw the building. It was painted a dingy green with a flat roof. Through the windows I saw kids —regular looking kids— walking around, some pantomiming laughing. An adult was chilling against one of the walls and said something, making a mark on the whiteboard behind him. KC headed up the steps and went inside, me close behind.

The place smelled like plaster, old carpet, teenagers, and a home-cooked meal all mixed together. There were maybe ten people in the room we had just entered, four of which were playing foosball, three boys were being swallowed by a couch as they watched a small TV, and two kids manned two ancient computers atop two desks, leaving one desk and computer vacant. Then there was a girl talking to the tall, broad-shouldered adult who couldn't have been older than twenty.

"Hey KC," the skinhead said, his emerald eyes flashing. "You must be Jordan." I approached him and offered my hand, trying to smile despite the emotions ravaging inside of me. "My name's Caleb —I'm one of the counselors who volunteer here." He turned to my brother. "KC, why don't you show Jordan to your room? Martin's coming by later to help me get another single in there."

My twin nodded and feigned a smile for Caleb, but his mouth was still sewn shut as we exited the front room and entered a long, narrow hallway. Doors lined each side, each with a white board attached, numbered 1-16, odds on the left, evens on the right. We continued until we reached room 11, which had _KC Guthrie _written in a cursive I doubted was his, and underneath…was my name. I don't know why, but that struck me. We were about to enter my room. I was going to have a home for the first time in six months.

KC shouldered open the door. The room was painted a tan shade and bore white carpet. There was a bed propped into the left corner with a navy blue comforter. Opposite it, just to the left of the door was the closet. A window was the only source of illumination, although directly below it stood an end table with a diminutive lap residing atop it. Judging by the size of his bed, there would be just enough room for mine. In the current space where my bed would go was KC's skateboard —the same one that he'd had since we were like, ten— and a duffle bag with a Degrassi panther on it. The zipper was half-drawn, so I could see a basketball and a sliver of gold from his uniform.

He followed my gaze and went over there, taking his things and dumping them in the floor of the closet. I could see that he had already moved his clothes to the rightmost section, leaving half of the space for me, which was filled with my new garments. That consideration must have been done this morning, while he was still able to live in the delusion that when we reunited, I would be straight.

KC abandoned his backpack and settled on top of his bed, pulling out a paperback from the drawer of the end table and burrowing his nose in it.

He was going to give me the cold shoulder? Fine. So fricken immature. I deposited my knapsack and squatted, liberating my wallet from the side pocket. My officer had given me five twenties when he was driving me from the juvy they put me in at Montréal to Toronto. They were definitely generous in every meaning of the word.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, setting his book down on his chest.

"Declan and Fiona invited me to a party tonight," I replied, standing and brushing myself off. "Seeing as neither of them have a problem with my sexuality, I'd rather spend time with them than you at the moment."

He returned his attention to his book. "You can't leave."

"Oh yeah? And why is that?"

KC turned the page. "You don't have enough points."

Points? What the fricken-frack was he talking about? Without any more words I exited the room, having to press myself against the wall as a few girls passed me to get to their rooms. One of them sort of looked like a younger version of Alex, which made me get a feeling I didn't quite understand. I took a gander at my hand and saw her number. Maybe I wouldn't need to get a taxi….

"Whoa there!" someone said, touching my shoulder. I turned around to come face-to-face with Caleb. "Where you headed off to, Jordan?"

I wavered. I wasn't sure how to treat this guy. Was he supposed to be my parental figure? Was he like a babysitter? Exactly what was his authority over me? I decided to play it safe. "One of my friends is throwing a party —I wanted to attend."

He grimaced with sympathy. "I'm sorry sweetie, but you don't have enough points." He gestured towards the white board that was up in the front room. It seemed to be a table, names across the top with tally-marks underneath. I raised an eyebrow. "You see, residents here earn points by doing housework, doing well in school, being an active member in the community…things of that sort. We even do projects and assignments from time to time for you guys to earn extra points." Points. This place had a point system. "Basically, if you make good choices, you get points! If you make bad choices, you might get points taken away." Oh…my…god. "Points are kind of like money around here. You want to go out? That costs points. Use the phone? Points. Watch TV? Points. Now, we give all our new members 20 points to start with. That's good for an hour of TV time, or an hour on the phone. Unfortunately, for a party, you're looking at around 50 points. Even then, you'd have to be back by 11:00pm. That's the curfew."

I stared at him, not comprehending. I had watched a total of _maybe_ five hours of TV in the past six months, through strangers' open windows. I had gotten to use a payphone maybe twice, and both times it was to call KC. Here I was, thinking that I was finally going to be able to indulge in the luxuries of domestic life, but no. It costs points.

Now I didn't know what to do with myself. I dragged myself back into room 11 only to find KC smiling smugly into his book. Ugh. I tucked my wallet away and got out that night's homework, going back into the front room to do it.

It had been awhile since I was made to do homework, so I had forgotten how unfun (my word, not anyone else's) it is. I may have been flabbergasted and disappointed before, but I had morphed into nothing more than a sad mound of flesh.

An hour or two later I was almost done, but needed to check a fact about Custer's Last Stand for a History quick-write. I bit my lip and looked around. I had settled into a beanbag chair next to the front door, out of the way of everyone else. Was I allowed to go on the computer? Or was I supposed to pay points? And how did one actually spend—

A low-throated bell donged rapidly. "CHOW!" Caleb yelled, letting go of the rope that dangled from the bell that was next to the whiteboard. Somewhere, some invisible hand turned a switch on. Everyone in the front room was instantly on their feet and racing down the hallway. Shortly after, everyone that was within one of the bedrooms flooded into the passage and turned left at the end of the hallway.

The color the interior of the front room and hallway were painted was a sort of beige that blended into itself, so it appeared as if the residents were disappearing into the wall itself. This was the only reason I hadn't noticed the continuation of the house before.

"…19…20…21…who are we missing?" Caleb's voice carried from the hidden corridor.

"…KC's sister?" an uncertain female voice tried.

I closed what I was working on and made my way down the hall. A room just as big as the front room, with an elongated dining table to the left and a kitchen to the right, was revealed to me. Kids and teenagers were seated, one empty seat in the middle of my brother and another adult who was not Caleb, because Caleb was sitting at one of the heads. I guess the fact that I completely missed this stranger's entrance is a testimony to my intensity when I'm focusing on something, even if that something is school work.

I took the only empty seat and took the paper towel that was folded underneath my silverware and put it on my lap, following the suit of the people sitting beside me.

"Join hands," Caleb said, outstretching both of his arms. Everyone obeyed, and at once I saw an expectant hand on either side of me. Were we going to say grace? I bit my lip, taking the hands of KC and the other adult. Anything about religion makes me sort of...itchy. Once I had completed their little oval, eyes were closed and heads were bowed. I hastily copied this maneuver as well. "Dear Lord," Caleb started again, "thank you for this food. Bless the hands that prepared it, bless it to our use and us to your service, and make us ever mindful of the needs of others. Through Christ our Lord we pray. Amen."

A gentle echo of 'amen' circled the assembled, mine squeaking out a little later.

On display were three moist, plump chickens with succulent skin and exquisite barbecue scars. Next to the main dishes were a bowl of mashed potatoes, a pitcher of gravy, and a platter of broccoli with melted cheese on top. A fresh influx of water burst into my mouth. The Degrassi lunch I had eaten was no better than the food one can recover from Dumpsters, but this....

People left and right were helping themselves, asking politely to pass the gravy or for a serving of chicken from Caleb, who was the one wielding the cutting knife. I put my plate forth and gathered a hefty serving of everything offered, to the point where my plate was overflowing.

"Are you sure your eyes aren't too big for your stomach, Jordan?" asked the stranger guy to my left, wearing a good-natured smile. "We don't like to waste food here if we can help it."

Previous to this comment I had been shoveling the contents into my mouth shamelessly, but to answer him, a slowed slightly. "I understand. I'll eat all of it, I swear." The other residents laughed, flashing me harmless smiles. This made me slow down a little more. I hadn't regarded the group home as hostile before, but...I don't know. Their friendly gazes made me feel good. I turned to KC, but he was just as preoccupied with his dinner as he was with his lunch.

Some kid cracked a joke about his math teacher, so we all started talking about geometry. Another girl went on this rant about how it was her favorite class and I fearlessly combated her, complaining about its pointlessness (I mean, really? Geometry is only useful for people who aspire to be architects or something. Not for the common population). We got into kinda a debate but it wasn't tense at all. She was funny, actually, and I made the table laugh a second time with some wisecrack.

Needless to say, I was beginning to ease myself out of the anxiety that had gripped me the entire day. I tried to focus on our conversation (which had somehow segued to NASCAR), but my stomach curled into knots every time I glanced at KC out of my peripherals.

Why couldn't he cut me some slack, just this one time?

Martin (the other adult who agreed with my views on geometry) must have noticed KC's antisocial attitude, because a few minutes later he asked: "Did everything go okay at school, KC?"

My attention was trained on my brother and a talking burning bush would not have diverted it. He tensed, either at the query or at my having stopped eating, buying himself some extra time by sending a morsel of chicken into his mouth. My twin chewed slowly, probably contemplating on what to say. Was he going to out me? I raised an eyebrow at the thought. Maybe I should out myself...maybe all of them could convince him that nothing was wrong with being born homosexual.

"Everything went fine," he said, his voice resigned. "Jordan just...made some decisions that I don't necessarily agreed with." A spoonful of gravy and mashed potatoes was gone.

"Jordan," Caleb interjected. "Care to elaborate?"

I looked to my plate for something to buy me time, but it was everything but licked clean. Should I tell them what this was really all about, or do I lie? I don't have a real aversion to lying, although I think it makes one's life more difficult and puts in question the authenticity of your relations with other human beings. It was then I recalled the grace we had recited before dinner. "I, uh…just put an obnoxious sticker up on my locker at school. I stand behind its message, but uh…I think KC may have a point. It is kind of uncalled-for to be that, uh…flamboyant."

Martin spoke next. "KC, what do you think about what your sister said?"

He was so quiet for so long I thought he was going to just ignore Martin, who (I gained by the dinner conversation) was another counselor who volunteered at the home on occasion. After agonizing seconds, he said this: "That sticker isn't going to make her life any easier, that's all I'm saying. She used to get roughed up at our old school for preaching crap like that, and I think that could all be avoided. I don't really care about what the sticker says I guess, or what it means for her to be so avid to flaunt it. It's just …something bad could've gone down at Oakdale, and she would have never landed herself in that situation if she wasn't so…outspoken."

Dinner ended. Someone volunteered to round up all the silverware and plates we used, while someone else volunteered to wash the dishes, and another asked to dry them and put them away. All for points, believe it or not. I wasn't feeling particularly driven to clean, so I didn't , but I realized I would have to sometime if I ever wanted to go anywhere besides school and the home. Someone _else_ even cooked that dinner for points. Evidently, points were crucial to group-home life.

I followed Martin and Caleb outside as the sky grew darker, needing to clear my head. I had no idea where I stood with KC now. What he said at dinner was not the same thing he said on our walk over here.

Getting a single bed into a bedroom at that building is a multistep process, believe me. First of all, we needed to break down the bed frame into all of its initial parts —there was no way we could get it through the door, let alone that narrow hallway into room 11. Some of the other residents, including Geometry Enthusiast, assisted us in transporting the fragments into the room in question. Then came the transportation of the mattress, which seems like it would be the easy part, though it took four of us to navigate it into room 11 (you would not believe how sharp of a turn you have to make in such little space). Once the mattress was inside, we had to reassemble the frame, wedge it into the area between the end table and the right-side wall, place the mattress correctly, and then make the bed. All in all it totaled into an hour of hard labor, and Martin and Caleb collaborated to award each of us 10 points.

Current total points: 30. While it may seem anticlimactic, after going through all that trouble…I don't know. It seemed like 10 points well-earned.

By 9:00pm that night, KC and I were lounging on our respective beds, he just starting his homework, me just relaxing. Well, trying to relax. Not knowing what my twin was thinking bothered me. Were the both of us on good terms now? Did he really believe I was going to hell for being gay? Were we just NOT going to talk about it?

"…So are you upset with me or no?" I asked once I had cultivated enough nerve, staring at the ceiling. Seconds crawled by as he took his time conjuring up his answer. Why, I wondered. A simple yes or no would do. 'Yes' was a perfectly acceptable answer. I just needed to know.

"I don't really give a shit about any of the homosexual crap," he muttered. My eyebrows rose. Language is language to me, whether or not the word is a four-letter one or not. It's just that KC rarely curses. I held my breath, inwardly coaxing him to keep talking. "You can like girls, I don't care. I don't think either of us is going to heaven either way."

I seconded that statement, but…. "Then why the temper-tantrum?"

He didn't laugh. "That guy could've killed you," was all he replied.

I sat up and scooted around to face my brother, leaning against the wall and tucking my knees to my chest. "He was all talk," I said, making a dismissing gesture with my hand for emphasis. "He would've never done anything."

"Yeah? But what if he had?" KC looked me in the eye for the first time in what seemed like centuries. "He was twice as big as me, Jordan. If he decided he didn't want you living anymore, you'd be dead."

I scoffed at this. "He was a pussy! He never would've—"

The look that came over KC's face stopped me mid-sentence. "He shoved you, he tripped you, he said unforgivable things to your face —how long do you think it would've been before one of his threats came true?"

I was torn. Part of me wanted to argue because Mykel would've never tried anything… he was an idiot by all accounts, but not that stupid. Yet part of me was…touched, I guess. The whole reason this gay thing bothered KC was because he didn't want me getting hurt. "I never go anywhere without that knife you gave me," I told him, lying back down on my bed. "And you learn shit on the streets…if he came back around, I could mess him up."

This comment managed a chuckle out of my twin, who mimicked me by tucking his school-things away and switching off the lap, shrouding us in darkness. "You better hope he doesn't come back around," was all he said, but with pounds of pounds of relief, I could hear a smile on his mouth. Day one of being re-assimilated into society had come to a close, and all I know is I slept like a rock.


	4. Chapter 4

FOUR

**THE SECOND DAY **at a new school might be worse than the first, no joke. I mean, the first day you're the new kid, and that's great, so everyone feels all inclined to introduce themselves and crap. The second day, all the formalities are over and done with, so you get to find out who actually wants to associate with you. Fun, fun, fun.

Luckily for me, I was the owner of the most incredibly awesome twin anyone's ever had, and the walk to school was absolutely painless. We were talking and laughing like we were kids again…I had no idea how big of a boulder on our shoulders that gay thing was. In all truth, we probably should've talked about it like, two years ago. That way, everything would've been out in the open and he could see why this part of me was important, and I could understand his concerns. During that walk to Degrassi, I didn't care what lied ahead, so long as KC was right there beside me.

It turned out that an ambush was in store. Liberty, Manny, and Emma (if I remembered their names correctly) were at my locker, looking around expectantly. One of my eyebrows clawed at the sky. "What do they want?" I wondered aloud as we drew closer.

I found out soon enough. "Hey, it's Jordan, right?" said the black-haired one, smiling. "I'm Manny Santos, and this is Emma and Liberty. We're sort of the welcoming committee of Degrassi and somehow we missed you yesterday!"

I smiled uneasily, grabbing KC's shirt when he tried to scoot away. "I'm Liberty Van Zandt." Van Zandt? Sounded familiar. "I'm your elected school body president."

"Congratulations," I told her (a little sarcastically) before I could stop myself. I wavered for a second, trying to find something to divert— "What's that?"

I had indicated the item that the third girl, Emma, was clutching to her chest. "Oh," she said, smiling belatedly. "This is last year's yearbook. Liberty wanted to give it to you for school spirit and stuff." She handed the parcel over. "I'm one of the campus's club gurus, so if you're interested in any extracurriculars, feel free to talk to me —I'm Emma, by the way. Manny here is the captain of Degrassi's spirit squad, and of course, if you want to get involved with ASB, Liberty's your girl."

KC tried to escape a second time but I held fast on his shirt. "Thanks you guys —I'll give that some thought." I flashed a smile and turned to my locker, hoping Degrassi's welcoming committee would take the hint.

"Oh, one last thing." Manny touched my shoulder, so I turned back around. "High five for your sticker!" I smiled, surprised, and gave her the high-five. Emma wanted one as well. "Just so you know, we have an LGBT club at the school."

"Oh, sweet." Now I couldn't stop smiling. "Thanks —really. I'll keep that in mind."

The three girls and KC left. I got out my homework and tucked the pieces of paper into the appropriate textbooks, retrieving my Media Immersion spiral and locking back up. I stood up and slung my knapsack over my shoulder, and didn't notice Declan until I stepped on him.

He shoved me backwards playfully. "You didn't show," he said, twirling a pencil between two fingers. We began walking towards our first period.

"Yeah, well, I had more important things to do."

He smirked. "Such as?"

I rolled my eyes. I didn't owe him an explanation, and any answer I gave him would probably be a lie. It seemed like KC wasn't too avid for people to know where he lived, so I'd keep my mouth shut about it too.

We walked into the classroom, most of the students already in their seats. Mr. Simpson had us log onto whatever site we wanted and asked us to click on any banner that was promising some sort of reward for either being the random-number-th visitor to the site or answering a who's-nose-is-this one correctly. We were to determine whether or not the links were valid, whether or not our personal information would be at risk if we entered it, and whether or not a virus could be imbedded within the link.

I struggled a little. The internet is pretty user-friendly, but I hadn't tested its waters for a long time. Two idiots went onto RedTube (a porn site) and thus earned detention. In all honesty the thought had crossed my mind as well, but I guess I'm not that stupid.

"What's that?"

I turned to Declan and followed his eyes to my hand. "A phone number," I replied casually, returning my attention to my monitor. Then, for reasons I don't understand, I added: "Alex's number." Being written in Sharpie, the numerals faded only a little from my shower that morning…but it wasn't as if I was scrubbing particularly hard.

That stupid smirk was smeared across his mug. "I see," he said. "You seem to be quite the ladies' woman, Jordan. It's only your second day being here. You remind me of… myself, in a way."

"Please, please don't say that."

He chuckled as the bell sounded. I gathered my things and Declan, followed by Fiona, joined me outside. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?" his twin asked as their conversation continued en route to English. I gave my assent with a quick nod. She gestured over to our right. "What does your gaydar say about him?"

For some reason I already knew who I was looking for before my eyes found him. "Riley Stavros?" Declan said, laughing a bit. "May I inquire as to why you're inquiring about your supposed Lothario's orientation?"

"Yeah. I think you have your signals crossed." But she didn't. He was as gay as me, though he could surround himself with burly boys in Letterman jackets as opposed to flamers with pink hair all he wanted. When we'd met —briefly— in Biology, he had seemed…too forward with the mention of Fiona. Too pressing, too…desperate to prove something. "Still," I interjected abruptly, "would it be so bad if he was gay?"

"No," Fiona replied, brow furrowed. "No, there's nothing wrong with homosexuals. I would just like to know if I was…dating one." The look on her face made me and Declan laugh. "No, you don't understand, I'm not some uptight homophobe, I'm just…curious." She was laughing now as well.

We congregated about the door to Ms. Kwan's room. "I move for a change in subject," Declan said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Let's talk about Alex."

I rolled my eyes. "Alright, fine —let's talk about Alex."

He grinned. "Do you like her?"

My face flushed at this question as some sort of emotion gurgled happily inside of me. She was sitting on her desk, I was sitting on mine…I was acutely aware of her body's location in relation to my own. She smiled, I smiled, she took my hand…her hand was so soft…. "She's cute," I answered, simpering despite myself. "There's no denying that."

"Who's cute?" Oh god. She came out of nowhere and nearly gave me a heart attack. Our eyes met and she smiled, biting her lower lip playfully. Hormones surged through my veins…oh god. If we had been alone—

"Good morning, Alex," Declan said hastily, but Alex didn't sever our eye contact. "Fiona, you've met Alex Nunez, yes?"

Chatter continued, but it seemed…muffled and far away. Her eyes were…rosewood? Mahogany? Given the low-cut, shimmering top she was wearing, my gaze would have wandered if hers wasn't so mesmerizing. We were standing quite close…her breath caressing my cheek so lightly…was I just imagining that? Her lips articulated in perfect contours —oh god, I couldn't look at her lips or I'd pounce.

She stepped even closer and my breath caught. "The bell rang," she said. Was she trying to seduce me? Oh god it was working so well. "Do you want to be late?"

Just as the tardy bell sounded, both Alex and I stepped into Ms. Kwan's classroom.

I took my seat by Craig and Marco and the silent orange-haired cutie and Barbie and Alex. Almost immediately, Marco spun around in his seat, smiling in greeting quickly, but getting right down to business. "Have you considered Stüdz any further? 'Cause listen: Peter and the guys are really into you. They said that you wouldn't mess up their chemistry or something —something like that. They're really excited is what I'm trying to say. They think you'll fit right in…."

He kept talking but I was distracted. There was a girl here that wasn't here the day before. I knew this because I would've noticed her without a doubt. She was pale with dark hair…bright eyes circled in black eyeliner…a nasal piercing. Was something wrong? She was resting her chin on her upturned palm, staring out of the window. The way the weak sunlight cast shadows on her face…

"Are you listening to me?" demanded Marco, snapping his fingers in my face.

I looked at him. "I am practically taking notes." I flipped open my notebook and clicked my pen, waiting.

He rolled his eyes but smiled good-naturedly. "They want to set up an audition. Nothing formal —just a jam session so they can get more of a feel for you."

Ugh. Marco was talking commitment and I couldn't do that right now. Things were so up-in-the-air…would a jam-session cost me points? If I met whatever criteria they sought after, did I still have a say in whether or not I wanted to join? I mean, I'd met Danny and Sav and Peter…none of them seemed like assholes from their first impressions, just stubbornly persistent.

Something landed on my desk. "Hold that thought," I told Marco as I unfolded the missive. He rolled his eyes again and spun around, directing his attention to the front of the room. _Who's cute?_ was scribbled in Alex's less-than-desirable penmanship.

Well, I wasn't one to complain. My handwriting was unique, artistic…but small and equal to hieroglyphics in degree of difficulty to decipher. _You tell me,_ I answered, handing the paper to Barbie, who handed it to Alex on her other side.

A few minutes passed where I actually paid attention to the lesson, although I don't understand why the curriculum reviews the contrast between similes and metaphors in AP English and Composition. Soon enough, however, I had Alex's reply. _According to your wandering eyes, Jane Vaughn. _

I looked at her but Alex was listening diligently to Ms. Kwan's lecture. I sighed, now gazing back to the beauty by the window…Jane was her name? Simple. I wouldn't forget that. _According to my wandering eyes, you,_ was my answer.

"So was that a yes or a no?"

Craig was the one who asked me this question, his curls bouncing into his eyes. "About Stüdz?"

"Yeah. They're good guys and everything —Peter and Spin and them. You should at least jam with them and check it out. My opinion, anyway."

I nodded and attempted to look thoughtful. I had Music Theory next period, so I could see if I got good vibes from Sav and Danny, and I'd talk to KC at lunch. See how many points it would cost me and whatnot.

The square of paper was back. _What are you doing after school?_

Geez —so much going on at once! After school was another question about time availability and the price of points…. _What did you have in mind?_

"Alright, everyone —pair up!"

Wait what? I let my head hit my desk painfully. This is why I should pay attention in class. All around me I could hear students frantically leaping out of their seats and diving to claim their BFF. Marco and quiet girl (whose name was Ellie, apparently) were together, Barbie (whose name was Paige, apparently) and Alex were together…Craig was paired up, and Declan and Fiona were with one another.

And someone was tapping my head.

I looked up and Jane was in front of me. Her apparel was a flawless…Goth and girly. There was also some sort of shallow, subtle intensity that billowed and warped around her body. Wow…I liked her. I liked her a lot.

"Hi, I'm Jane," she said, outstretching her hand. I half-stood and shook it. "We're…kind of the only ones left. Partners?"

"Yeah…yeah, okay."

The bell chimed. "Have your book selected by tomorrow!" Ms. Kwan called, as the class rose as one, beginning to shuffle out of her dominion.

"Do you want to meet in the library at lunch?" she asked me, beginning to walk away. I gathered my things hurriedly and caught up with her. "Or did you already have a book in mind?"

"Umm —no." I kept in stride with her although we weren't heading in the direction of my locker. "To be completely honest I was spacing…I have no idea what the assignment or anything is." Nervous laughter tripped over my lips just as something struck the back of my head.

Jane picked up a crumpled ball of paper off of the floor. "Already making enemies, new girl?" she asked, smiling as she handed me the missile. "What did you say your name was?"

I saw the back of Alex's head disappear in the throng. I turned back to Jane. "Uh —my name? Jordan…Jordan Guthrie. Maybe you know my brother, KC?"

She made the most adorable face as she pondered. "No, I don't think so."

I shrugged, following her to wherever she was heading, hoping desperately that I could find my way to the music room —and if not, use the new-kid excuse on my second day. My chances were slim with a stiff like Regaldo though.

"So, Jordan —does the library at lunch work for you?" She stopped at a locker, unfastening the bolt and exchanging her supplies. I could lug around my English textbook for another period —that was no big deal.

"Jordan?" What was Declan doing in this neck of the woods? He, uh…didn't exactly look happy to see me. "You do realize that your next period is on the opposite side of campus, right?"

What the hell was he playing at? I did NOT like the condescending way he was staring me down. His eyes, hard with some sort of emotion, flicked to Jane for the briefest of seconds. Ah…I understood.

He had 'dibs'.


	5. Chapter 5

FIVE

"**JORDAN, OVER HERE!" **

I could see Jane through the glass partition at one of the library's tables, waving me over. She had books stacked all around her…a bit of a makeshift castle. I smiled, swerving into the alcove and setting my lunch platter next to her sack lunch. On the menu that day? Spicy chicken sandwiches with coleslaw…the coleslaw was watery and the sandwich was bland.

"So I got some books together that I was interested in —I mean, I've read most of them, but for a book report that could only help us, right?" She had such a nice smile…so easy, so real.

"A book report? Is that what we're supposed to do?" I grabbed my sandwich and held it in my far hand, pushing the tray away.

"Yeah. I was thinking Beowulf would be a safe choice, seeing as we had to read that last year, although I'm sure we won't be the only ones using that path of logic—"

"Uh —wait. Pause, rewind…I've never read Beowulf."

She cocked her eyebrow. "Are you sure? I thought Beowulf was a piece of required reading like, everywhere." She laughed…a purely pleasant sound. How many friggin straight crushes was I going to have this year!

"Yeah, well, I slipped through the cracks I guess." I smiled at her and took a bite of my meal, taking the paperback from her hand and examining the cover. "I meant to ask you earlier…are you having an okay day? You seemed sort of gloomy in English."

"Really?"

Another bite. "Well, maybe not gloomy…pensive?"

I made her smile and inwardly high-fived myself. "I didn't know I was being watched," she joked, taking out a sandwich of her own and beginning to eat. "I guess I do have quite a lot to think about. Boy drama —you know how it is."

I snorted, handing her the book back. "I don't, actually. So that looks pretty intriguing. And if you've read it before, I agree that that couldn't hurt." I smiled at her. "Up to you, Jane." Oooh…and I liked how her name felt on my tongue.

"What did you say your name was?"

"Jordan."

She moved the stack of tomes that had previously separated us and shifted her chair. "Yeah, Spin was talking about you the other day. You're thinking about joining Stüdz?"

I laughed. "Stüdz is thinking about me joining Stüdz," I said. "Spin is…the drummer?"

"Yeah. He also happens to be my boyfriend." Another smile. "I don't know —the guys seemed really excited. Did Marco talk to you about a jam session…?"

Geez, all these Degrassi folk seemed on the exact same wavelength. "Yeah, he mentioned it, as did Sav and Danny last period." I finished my chicken sandwich and tossed the trash into the closest bin. "Thing is, I don't know what my parents will say. And I might also have other plans after school."

"That's fine. Just do whatever after school today and ask your parents about it. We're flexible…we're ready to hear you once you're ready to play!"

We? I looked at her cautiously. "I also…don't have a guitar."

Now it was her turn to laugh. "You can borrow one of Peter's. He has like, seven."

Grr. To tell her or not to tell her? Ugh umm umm… "I also…can't read music."

It was evident that this question caught her completely off-guard. I stuck my tongue in my cheek and waited for her facial expression to contort so I could analyze it. "Really?" she asked, her expression…perplexed? Well that was a hell of a lot better than angry. "Huh. Well that isn't to say that you don't have skills, I'm just…sort of surprised that the guys are so eager about you then. But I guess we'll hear you out and see where it goes from there, yeah?"

A shared smile. "You keep saying 'we,'" I pointed out.

"…Well, yeah," she chuckled as the bell sounded. "Didn't anyone tell you the full name of the band?"

"No."

Both of us scrambled to relocate the books to their initial resting places. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see her checking the spines and reading the numerals along the bottom that represented the decimal system in use. Because of this, I sort of felt bad for wedging in a story whenever one could fit, but not exorbitantly so.

We reached the hallway almost in unison. "What's the band's full name?" I asked, once again walking in stride with her although our lockers were at polar opposites of the school. Mr. Perino lectured all the time anyway —I wouldn't need my social studies tome. I might look silly still carrying around my English book from second period but—

"Janie and the Stüdz featuring Peter Stone."

I grinned. "And you're Janie I presume?" She smiled and laughed as we turned…oh boy. Declan was there again. Our eyes locked…cue the shivers down my spine. What the hell was his problem? He was a perfectly good mood second period! "Oh, I meant to ask you about Declan as well. Is he bothering you? I know you have a boyfriend and everything."

"Decs? Oh he's harmless —we're working on the musical together. He isn't, you know, _trying _anything."

What. The. Shit. I wasn't sure how much closer I was willing to get to those hard eyes and that cold stare. Here I was, thinking that Declan was the first real friend I'd managed to make for myself, and he was hurling chills of death at me. I touched Jane's elbow and she obediently stopped and turned. "The musical?" I asked. Not only to make conversation and avoid approaching Declan (avoid her approaching Declan?), but also because a musical sounded like a way I might be able to earn some points.

"Yeah, he's in my theater production class. We're both pitched this idea for a rock opera, the soundtrack being songs written by Degrassi bands."

For some reason, that idea literally blew my mind as genius. "Seriously? That is such a good idea!"

"We're co-producing it…everything is in the preliminary stages right now, but we're beginning to put together a storyboard. We need to get a team together to get started on the script, and in all honesty, I am sooo stressed out."

I smiled at her. "I can imagine. When are the auditions?"

"Umm!" She spun around in a complete circle (so friggin cute) before finding a flyer that was posted on someone's locker. "Next Friday. That's why I'm like, freaking out! We have to get a script written to rehearse with before our first call-backs, which would be… Wednesday?"

"It does sound like you have quite a lot on your plate," I agreed. I nudged to the side ever so slightly…Declan was waiting at her locker, continuing to stare me down. He mouthed something but I'm terrible at lip-reading. "Let me know if you need any help, Jane. I mean, we're already working on Beowulf together, right?"

She smiled so wide…it made me feel like I was flying. "Right. Cool. I will keep that in mind, Jordan."

Was Declan coming over here? "Shit," I murmured under my breath before I could stop myself. "Yeah, so, keep me posted, Jane. I'll definitely try out if I can, and who knows? Maybe I'll be contributing to the soundtrack."

"We'll see!" She leaned in and I was being hugged. Her scent of crushed pine-needles swam over me, making my mind buzz in contentment. My arms wrapped around her… conforming to the curves of her body. "I'll see you around!"

Though it was bliss, as soon as I could feel her grip loosen, I hauled ass out of there.

_The Dot, right after school, I'm buying._

That was the final sentence scrawled on the note Alex and I had been conversing on that second period…her punctuating her statement by chucking the projectile at my head.

KC helped me talk to Candace —the supervisor on call that day— about going to the coffee shop. At the cost of all thirty of my points, I could stay out until 5:00pm. That gave me an hour and a half to walk back to the Dot (KC showed me where it was on our way to the group home), having coffee with Alex, and walk back. We also talked briefly about the Stüdz jam session (she said that it would cost me points to attend the session, but that if I joined the band, practices would be cost-free time outside the home, and each performance worth points) and my wanting to try out for the musical (rehearsal would be cost-free, each performance worth points).

Needless to say, I was in a great mood as I began walking back with KC —him having basketball practice. After all, I made a new friend in Jane…admittedly I did have a tiny crush on her, but my straight-crushes were never as poignant or powerful as my gay ones. I learned that joining Stüdz and the musical would be awesome for my point-count, as well as spending time outside the home. And now I was headed to rendezvous with a beautiful, sexy Latina that was pretty into me. Things were looking up.

Except for one glaring exception.

And I use the phrase 'glaring exception' quite plainly, because that was exactly what Declan had been doing. I think I was correct in my earlier assumption that he had claimed 'dibs' on Jane and he thought I was encroaching on his claim. Did he know that she was taken? He probably didn't care. He _must_ know that Jane was straight.

Then again, he might know that that small fact has never really stopped me before.

I pulled the door open and a blast of warm air hit me…the smell of a beanery. This place was pretty packed —tons of recognizable faces populated the tables and drink bar. The face I sought, however, was in the very back corner, buried in a cell phone, looking…irritated? I glanced at my hand and, reassured, walked over to the busy guy behind the counter.

"Need help?" I asked as he pulled out two cheeseburgers, two fries, a super salad, and two milkshakes. He didn't say anything and shoved the order at me, gesturing with his head at table 11.

I made my way over there and served KC's friend Alli, Alli's boy-toy Johnny, and another guy that was in my Science class that was named…Lucas? He reminded me of Jane, but she left my mind as quickly as she had arrived.

"Table 2," he said as soon as I returned, handing me three steaming cups and a basket of croissants. For the next few minutes I acted as his assistant, and we were remarkably efficient, though very few words were exchanged. After I returned from my fifth or sixth voyage, he gave me a once-over. "Who are you?"

I laughed. "My name's Jordan. I'm new—"

"Oh! You're her!" He high-fived me whilst handing change to a customer. "I'm Spinner —I play drums for Stüdz— Jane's boyfriend."

"Ah, yes, I'm aware of your many titles. Well met, Spinner. Can I use your payphone?"

This abrupt, random query caught him off-guard. "Uh, yeah, it's over here…" He led me behind the counter, fishing out some sort of token from the front of his apron and depositing it into a slot. "That's good for five minutes —it'll drop into there and you can just put it back in if you need it longer."

"Alright, thank you very much!"

He continued at his work as I dialed the number scrawled on my hand. I leaned against the wall, very inconspicuous, as I stared across the room of bumbling Canadians at her.

"Hello?"

Definitely agitated. I smirked into the phone, admiring her from afar. "Hey," I answered.

"Who is this?"

"Jordan." Her eyes closed and she slouched in her seat. I giggled. "You're cute."

"Are you coming?"

"I'm here."

That perked her up. She sat up straight, that top she was wearing doing wonders for her chest (excuse my perversion), casting around the restaurant. "Are you sure you're at the right place? I don't see you."

"I see you," I replied, grinning. "And it's pretty crowded in here —I can't blame you."

"Well are you going to come and join me? I've been waiting."

"Sorry sorry —I got held up with my parents. I'll be right there."

I hung up the phone, sort of jittery with giddy anxiety. I swerved around Spinner and took a serving of curly fries to table 6 for him on my way to Alex.

Her face lit up when she saw me, which of course made my day. Her features were naturally fierce, aggressive…and they all softened in unison when our eyes met. It was easy to smile at her, and I treasured the beam I got in return. "Hi."

"Hi."

I took my seat. "See? I made it…after you pegged me in the head with the invite, I thought it wise to endure this date rather than prompt you to hit me with something more sizable."

She laughed. "Date? I didn't know this was a date…"

I shrugged. "Call it what you want, my dear. I'm going to get a blackie —want anything?"

"Oh no —I told you, I'll buy—"

I put my hand over hers, savoring the little lightning bolts that danced between us. "I insist. Do you want anything?"

She retrieved her wallet and pulled out a five, handing it to me. "A caramel frap, please."

I smiled and wordlessly left, navigating through the crowd. I bumped into Sav and traded greetings…he pressed me about Stüdz and I told him the news (editing it to make me sound like I was under normal circumstances), and he was nothing short of ecstatic. These guys' keenness for me to join their little troupe was hilarious…at least they were asking for a jam session first. Now that I had the green light, I allowed my hopes to stir a little. He was with his girlfriend Anya, who was friendly enough and claimed to be in my English class. I had no idea so I didn't press her.

Within moments I was sitting across from Alex once more, she sipping her drink and me sipping mine. "Oh!" I said, setting the cup down and beginning to search through my coat pocket. "Your change." I handed her back her five.

She rolled her eyes but chuckled good-naturedly, tucking her money away.

Conversation flowed effortlessly. I was relaxed and composed…asked her about her day, her homework load, her drink. She talked freely, smiled freely…I definitely liked her. It was easy to be myself…I was comfortable in a way I was usually uncomfortable. Alex didn't mind me blurting out the first thing that flew into my head —in fact, she seemed disposed to the same inclination. She asked me about myself, and I answered as best I could. We decided to indulge in a game of 20 Questions.

"Favorite color?" she asked, curling her long, lithe fingers around her steaming cup.

I smiled. "White," I said.

"KKK much?"

See my point? I absolutely loved it. I laughed at her comment as I pulled my bangs into my eyes. "Not a racial thing, I promise."

"Then why white?" Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

I shook my head. Sipped my coffee. "I don't have a layman's answer for you."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning…" I searched for words to explain myself. "Meaning that my answer is pretty heavy for a chat over coffee. What's more important —beauty or brains?"

"Hmm…" She eased into her seat, those chocolate eyes appraising me over the rim of her drink. "Considering you have both, I don't see why I should be made to choose."

Really now? That was the answer I wanted to hear…. "You have stunning eyes."

"Don't get me started on _your_ eyes."

I snickered, holding my coffee in my lap for the heat. "Oh yeah? And what do you mean by that?"

She shrugged. "Oh I don't know…maybe I'm just talking nonsense!"

"You know what I think?"

"What's that?"

"I think you might be a bit of a tease."

Alex bit her lip in that same seductive way that made my cells go berserk. "Maybe. Your question."

I checked the clock briefly. Had forty minutes passed already? I, for one, was enjoying myself immensely. The black coffee was strong and bitter and scalding —just the way I liked it. Alex was easy and fun and comfortable. In a singular moment I found some sort of inner peace that resonated throughout my head and heart…a sense of safety in an unrelenting chaos. One second of rest and contentment. I look up at this beautiful girl and smiled at her. "Please tell me about my eyes?"

Alex smirked as she leaned forward. Her elbows grazed the table as her hands erected a steeple in front of her. I had no idea what she could say about my eyes when hers were so open and welcoming. "Your eyes might even be better than your killer smile, Jordan." She flashed her teeth, cocking her head to the side as she looked at me. "They're…ocean blue, with strands of emerald and flecks of hazel, like abalone. They might be the most passionate eyes I've ever seen…with the slightest change in your expression, the fire behind them either roars or dwindles, dances or tames. They're penetrating. Intense. Calculating. But also vastly intelligent, sage-like…empathetic. They're… seemingly aware of every detail of every moment, yet at the same time…distant and contemplative. Your eyes are just so vicious and raw. It's awesome."

…Wow. Consider my mind blown. Was she some sort of world-renowned author? And was she sure these were my plain old eyes she was gazing into? Flabbergasted, I didn't know what to say. "It's not often that I'm at a loss for words," I admitted, shaking my head in bewilderment.

She laughed. "Guess I was a poet and didn't know it!" It was her turn to seek the time. "When did you say you had to be home?"

Uh, never? "I don't have a curfew," I lied flawlessly. After that description, she'd hooked me and reeled me in. I wasn't going to be shaken off that easily.

"_Really_?" She looked tremendously pleased with herself. "Is there any chance you want to head to my place? It's not far from here, and maybe you could explain Kwan's assignment to me."

I didn't mention that I had spaced out during Kwan's lecture about the book report. I didn't mention that I did have a pre-determined curfew and no way to get home. But I'd brought my wallet…I could ask a taxi to take me to the group home on Spartan Street. Plus I could make up some bullshit about getting lost along the way…it was worth it.

Alex was worth it.


End file.
